


If I Told You

by LoseInhibition



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Post Reichenbach, Virgin Sherlock, Virginity, mentions of self harm, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-23
Updated: 2013-08-23
Packaged: 2017-12-24 09:41:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/938460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoseInhibition/pseuds/LoseInhibition
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and John admit their feelings to one another. Their relationship progresses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If I Told You

**Author's Note:**

> Title from What If I Told You by Jason Walker. It fits the fic well.  
> This is my first AO3 fic and it's not beta-read so bear with me. Also the beginning is kinda shit so if you read on it gets a bit better. Sorry.

Sherlock had been back for a month now after faking his own death and leaving John derelict. John had surprised both himself and Sherlock by forgiving him almost instantaneously.  
Now, a month on, they were almost back to normal (running around solving crimes) except for the slight tension that seemed to hang in the air.  
John comes home from the surgery late to find Sherlock lying on the sofa, not in his thinking position but curled up looking desperately sad, John really can't take it much more.  
When he thought Sherlock had died he had fully come to terms with the thing he had know for years but had been too afraid to admit it. He was in love with Sherlock. But Sherlock had been dead. It had been too late. Now however he could hardly contain the words. Half of him desperately wanted to tell Sherlock, just so he would know, because he couldn't bear Sherlock dying and never having heard how John felt. The other half knew he could not, as after living without Sherlock he knew it would be impossible to have to live like that again; which would be what happened, he knew, if he ever said those 3 words.  
"Sherlock, we need to talk."  
His eyes widen as he turns to face Sherlock who is now sitting bolt upright, knees tucked under his chin, eyes brimming with worry and he looks so upset John thinks he might be crying.  
He walks over to him and sits down.  
"I know John. I'm so sorry. I will always be sorry."  
"Sorry about what?" John says, hoping it's not "I know you're in love with me. I don't feel the same. I'm so sorry."  
"I'm sorry that I left. You know I had to." He looks beseechingly at John. John is slightly stunned; he has never hear Sherlock say sorry that many times. Saying it once seemed to be a difficulty in itself.  
"Sherlock, really, I've forgiven you. I, um, I'm just, really happy you're back."  
John really isn't sure what happens next but Sherlock is mumbling something about how much he missed him and then a long, thin body has crawled onto his lap and is curling up against him. He feels Sherlocks face pressed against his neck and a few warm tears. His hair tickles John's ear and John strokes his back, definitely bewildered by the strange turn of events but also rather pleased. Sherlock feels likes a warm, quivering kitten in his arms and John really just want to wrap him up in his arms forever but he knows this sudden burst of affection will disappear soon and, more likely than not, never return.  
And, in one quick movement, it is. Sherlock is sitting cross legged on the couch next to John, still facing him. He looks terrified as he opens his mouth and speaks in a rush.  
"John, I've known this for a long time, far to long really, but after nearly losing you I just have to tell you and I fully understand if you want me to leave although I think it might kill me I was so lost when I could not be with you. I- John, I love you."  
John stares at Sherlock for a moment trying to process the new information. Sherlock stares at his lap before looking back at John, his expression completely forlorn.  
"Do I have to leave?"  
John's brain finally catches up and before Sherlock can get up, he turns his head and moves their faces together before swiftly pressing his lips to Sherlock's. However, before he can do more than just touch their lips together, Sherlock is pushing him off.  
"John stop. I don't need pity." He looks hurt and outraged and John's heart aches.  
"Sherlock, no. I love you. I have for so long, I swear, please."  
Sherlock still looks so anxious but he places his hands on either side of John's face.  
"John. If you do this there's no, no just going back because I can't. You know what they say about addicts."  
"I do." John murmurs. There faces are so close and their lips are not more than an inch apart and god does he want to close the distance. He feels Sherlock move closer, tilting his head and then he feels their lips press together. Sherlocks lips are so soft and full and he kisses them softly, chastely. He can tell Sherlock is not quite sure what to do, he appears to be trying to copy John's motions.  
"Relax Sherlock." He breathes against his mouth before licking softly at it. Sherlock opens his mouth and he moves hungrily, desperately trying to get as much as he can.  
He has wanted for to long. Sherlock responds eagerly, moving his own tongue against John's. John nips softly at Sherlocks lower lip before running his tongue along the roof of his mouth and behind his teeth. Sherlock let's out a moan and tugs hard on John's hair. John takes the opportunity to change their positions, pushing Sherlock back against the sofa and lying in between his thighs. Sherlock wraps his legs around John's as John holds himself up on his arms and presses kisses along Sherlock's jaw and then sucks on the pale expanse of his neck.  
He moves back to Sherlock's lips as they kiss, hot and open mouthed. He can feels his trousers getting a little tight and notices Sherlock also wriggling uncomfortable. He lowers himself and presses his crotch against Sherlock. The body beneath him stiffens completely and he feels two large hands pressing against his chest and shoving him off.  
Sherlock is lying, panting through parted lips that look positively obscene, red and wet. All John wants it to lie on top of him and devour him.  
Then he remembers. Sherlock pushed him off. Sherlock looks slightly frozen and John strokes the prominent cheek bones and speaks softly.  
"Sherlock? Did you not want that?"  
"I- of course I did. I've wanted, I want. I'm just not used to this."  
Sherlock speaks slowly, hesitating, almost stuttering.  
"Not used to what, love?"  
Sherlock doesn't seem to notice John's slipping out a pet name.  
"John, that's the second kiss I've ever had. And I've never gone any further than that."  
Sherlock flushes as he says that and he looks so bashful; John can't help himself as he leans forward and presses his lips softly against Sherlock's applying only the gentlest pressure. Pale blue grey eyes look up at him with worry. John has never seen his eyes look so unguarded. He can't say he's too shocked by Sherlock's revelation. He had expected and heard as much.  
"That's fine. I don't expect anything from you. But-"  
He takes a deep breath  
"I do want to be with you. As a partner."  
Sherlock nods and then says "Me too."  
He pauses.  
"I'm not ready yet, John. For sex. I know it's illogical. I'm in my thirties and still a virgin in every way."  
"It's not illogical."  
He presses a kiss to Sherlocks forehead  
"Are you asexual?"  
He doesn't know whether Sherlock will answer but he does; not looking at John.  
"No. Demisexual maybe?"  
He's read the definition before and shoots Sherlock a small smile.  
"So you've 'formed a strong emotional connection' with me?"  
Sherlock rolls his eyes. "I feel as though the information you have received tonight is going to cause an inflation in your ego."  
John smirks. "So when did you realise you were attracted to me?"  
Sherlock rolls his eyes again but answers John.  
"When you shot the cabby."  
John's eyes widen. Since then?  
Sherlock continues.  
"I think I 'fell in love with you' slowly after that. Maybe when Moriarty put you in that vest."  
"Why didn't you say something?" He asks quietly.  
"Well you were so adamant of your heterosexuality I thought it would be fruitless to ruin a friendship by 'saying something'. I assure you I found no difficulty in doing so."  
John smiles weakly and strokes Sherlock's hair, somehow his head is now in John's lap, the rest of his body curled on the sofa.  
"I was attracted to you from the beginning. However when you thought I was hitting on you when we went out to dinner, I really wasn't. I just wanted to know something of you. Well, if you hadn't shot me down just because I merely hinted at something between us, I might have made a move." John admits with a grin.  
"Who's the other person you've kissed?"  
"Victor Trevor. He was the only other person who bothered long enough for me to 'form an emotional connection'"  
"I realised I loved you when you died. I did before I just couldn't admit it."  
Sherlock smiles. It's small but soft and warm. John has only ever seen it a few times before and now he recollects they have all been directed towards him when he said something particularly affectionate.  
"Chinese? I'm starving" Sherlock asks and for a moment John is confused before reaching for his phone and ordering  
***

John is surprised by how much the fact that they are now dating (?) hasn't changed a thing. They sit in front on the television watching reruns of Doctor Who while they eat the takeaway Chinese and Sherlock complains incessantly. Sherlock's feet are on John's lap but this is something that has always happened however now John feels no shame in stroking the pale bony ankles.  
He turns to look at Sherlock during an ad break to find Sherlock staring at him so he smiles and the stupidly perfect Cupid's bow lips crook up at the corners (this is also not something he is unused to).  
He gets up, shoving Sherlock's feet of him and receiving a pout, and goes into the kitchen to wash up the plates and when he comes back Doctor Who is back on and Sherlock is staring blankly at the screen. He sits down and continues to watch.  
"Bored." Sherlock claims and then climbs on top of John so he's straddling him, face looming down over him.  
Sherlock grabs the sides of his face and leans down kissing him hard, licking desperately into his mouth. Sherlock's technique has improved greatly from the last time and with his tongue sliding against his own, the tugs on his hair and Sherlock's rhythmic movements atop of him, John can feel his blood rushing southwards. Sherlock doesn't seem to be put out this time and rubs his hard on purposefully onto John's stomach and then grinds his arse back against John's crotch.  
John groans and Sherlock stops for a moment.  
"You sure you haven't done this before?"  
Sherlock smirks and leans down to suck at John's neck, still moving steadily in his lap.  
"Sher- oh god- didn't you say you don't want- if this goes any further I'm gonna... Want more"  
Sherlock shakes his head.  
"I do want. Just not too much. Yet."  
John thinks this is rather dubious consent but he know its probably just Sherlock not being able to express himself.  
He puts his hand on Sherlock's shirt and moves his fingers to the top unopened button.  
"May I?"  
"Yes." Sherlock replies breathily and places his own hands on John's shirt. They fumble with the buttons, John more successful. Being a surgeon has taught him to use his hands well under pressure. Sherlock's usually dexterous hands, however, move clumsily in a rush. John takes over and they both remove their shirts; John tossing his on the floor, Sherlock draping his over the coffee table with probably only slightly less precision than usual.  
John lifts Sherlock off of him and places him down on the sofa, his head lying on the arm. Sherlock's already dilated pupils grow bigger at John's display of strength. He kneels in between Sherlock's spread thighs for a moment, marvelling at his body.  
He is certain it is that of a Greek statues. With his pale, ivory skin over defined but not prominent muscles. He looks back to Sherlock's face to find him doing the same. They meet each others eyes and flush slightly and John lies down so he is fully on top of Sherlock.  
They crash their lips together and it turns dirty quickly, all lips and teeth and tongue. John lets his hands wander over Sherlock's torso and feels Sherlock's large hands moving over his back. He's achingly hard and he grinds desperately against.  
"Still ok?"  
He ask and Sherlock nods. He can see he's slightly unable to speak. John removes his lips from Sherlock and begins to suck on his neck before moving downwards, biting on his collarbones, flicking his tongue across Sherlock's nipples and kissing a trail down his stomach.  
He props himself up to look at Sherlock.  
His eyes are closed but his mouth is open, he's breathing hard and letting out little gasps through bruised lips. John brings his mouth back to Sherlock's and attacks it furiously. He's lost all control and as he grinds their erections together, he moves a hand down to rub at Sherlock's thigh and then palm at his crotch. A few moments after the contact and Sherlock is letting out a loud moan as he throws his head back. And oh. John can feel warm, wet heat where his hand is.  
Sherlock lies panting beneath him and fuck if it isn't the most delicious thing he's ever seen.  
"Sherlock, was, was that ok?" He asks apprehensively because he really wasn't sure if orgasming was part of the agenda.  
Sherlock closes his eyes and regains his breath before nodding.  
"Yeah. That was good. M'sorry."  
"Sorry?" John asks, confused.  
"For coming in my trousers like a teenager." He looks rather embarrassed and it's cute and John leans down to peck his lips.  
"Don't be sorry for that." He say with a warm smile.  
"I'll finish that off for you." Sherlock says, not looking at John but gesturing vaguely towards his crotch.  
"You don't have to." John assures him, he could finish himself off. He doubts it would take longer than a few seconds.  
"No. I want to. Please." He looks adamant about doing so and he's using words like please so John nods.  
Sherlock moves his hands to John's trouser button, undoes it, pulls down the zipper. John's lifts himself up and pulls down the trousers.  
Sherlock looks warily at John's erection straining through his pants.  
"You really don't have to do this, Sherlock." John repeats but Sherlock shakes his head.  
"I want to John. It's just, I'm not to sure what to do." He admits.  
"Wait." John asks Sherlock to sit behind him so straddles John from behind. "It will be easier like this. Like jerking yourself off. You do do that, don't you?."  
"I do. But rarely until I met you." He hears Sherlock say quietly. And god, the thought of Sherlock lying in bed getting himself off to the thought of John. He lets out a groan and feels Sherlock reach around to palm him through his pants. Then the beautiful, long fingered hand moves beneath the cloth and he grasps at John's erection. John gasps as Sherlock begins to pump his hand slowly down his length, his precum enough lubrication to make the friction delicious and not uncomfortable. Sherlock peppers kisses on John's neck and behind his ears and he's really aching to come. Sherlock's hand moves to thumb at his slit and then fondles at John's tightening balls.  
"Come for me." Whispers Sherlock's low voice in his ear and that's all it takes for John to be moaning Sherlock's name as his cum shoots into Sherlock's hand. He slumps back against the chest behind him.  
Once he's caught his breath he turns to look at Sherlock and give him a short, sweet kiss. He's not quite sure what he's supposed to do now but he's had a long day and he really would like to go to bed.  
"'M exhausted." He mumbles  
"Do you think I could, um, come to bed with you? Just to sleep?"  
John smiles gently at him, he looks like a young child, forlorn and nervous.  
"Of course. C'mon. You are actually going to sleep though?" He adds.  
Sherlock just grins and follows him up to his bedroom after grabbing some stuff from his room.  
John feels a little awkward going into the bathroom to change and coming back out. Sherlock is wearing pyjama trousers and nothing else. He stares for a little while at his chest before averting his eyes. Sherlock goes into the bathroom to brush his teeth and John follows suit. They get in to bed and he isn't sure what position they are supposed to be sleeping in so he lies in his usual position, on his back, his limbs sprawled out easily. For a while he lies silently staring at the ceiling, he can feel Sherlock moving. Then he feels a warm body edge closer and then a head rests against his shoulder. His lips twitch up into a smile and Sherlock turns his head to look for John's approval. John moves an arm to wrap around Sherlock and card his fingers through the soft curls. Sherlock sighs and relaxes into him, wrapping his legs around John's and bringing a hand to rest on John's chest.  
John can't help the grin that spreads across his face, he never imagined this could ever happen. He tilts his head to press a kiss to the dark mop on Sherlock's head.  
"I love you."  
"'M you too. G'night." Comes a sleepy mumble into John's shirt.  
And as John drifts of, stroking Sherlock's hair and feeling the reassuring warmth pressed against him, he knows he's never been happier.  
*  
Its been more than a week since John and Sherlock had admitted their feelings to each other. Not a lot has changed really.  
They still do cases, except when they come home John is pleased to know he can kiss the upset expression off Sherlock's face. That when Sherlock is stressed he can massage the tension from his shoulders or when he goes through one of his moods he can stroke his hair and speak soothing words to him. That he can watch TV and have Sherlock leave his experiment to lie on his lap. That he can go to bed and if he's lucky Sherlock will join him, curling up into him. The fact that Sherlock is one of the most physically affectionate people he has ever dated shocked him at first but he understands that Sherlock has a lot to make up for when it comes to physical contact.  
They haven't gone further than sharing hot kisses on their now shared bed (or on the sofa, or in their kitchen, or anywhere really) and a few handjobs. However, despite this John has yet to see anywhere below Sherlock's waist, every time he's tried to remove his trousers Sherlock has looked extremely frightened and batted John's hand away. One night in exasperation John had burst out.  
"For fucks sake Sherlock! Is there something wrong with your dick? Honestly I couldn't care less."  
He had heard Sherlock mumble something like "not my dick," but that had been the end of that session.  
Tonight they were stumbling in to the flat giggling after a particularly exhilarating case. Sherlock's eyes were bright with the pleasure of solving it and his face looked so alight with happiness John couldn't help himself (he seemed to have terrible self control recently) from grabbing him roughly and pushing him against the wall.  
They tore of each others shirts quickly and discarded them along the floor, scarcely breaking the movement of their mouths. John tugged hard at Sherlock's hair, trying to get impossibly closer and Sherlock moaned loudly at each pull. He put his knee between Sherlock's thighs and grinded shamelessly. He let his hands wander and grope at all parts of Sherlock's body and he did the same to John. He felt Sherlock's mouth leave his and then teeth biting down on his shoulder before lips sucking a mark that would surely bruise on a spot next to his scar.  
Wanting to move this to the bedroom John moves his hands to push Sherlock off. Instead Sherlock jumps up and wraps his legs around John's waist and his arms grip around the back of John's neck and head.  
The first time Sherlock did this his lack of weight had shocked John, but now he easily holds Sherlock and carries him up the stairs trying to keep himself concentrated on the task even with Sherlock relentlessly kissing and nipping and sucking at the skin around John's jaw and neck. Marking John as much as possible in the most visible places had become Sherlock's pass time since Anderson had pointed out that they both had hickies all over their necks (Sherlock hadn't put his coat collar up that day).  
John remembered Donavan and Anderson's horrified expression as Sherlock had smirked smugly and said "Well surely even you can deduce why that is."  
Lestrade had given them both a long suffering smile said finally and congratulations.  
Once they reached the bedroom, John dropped Sherlock down on the bed and crawled on top of him. Sherlock removed John's trousers and John, hoping this would be the night he finally got to see Sherlock naked, went to unbutton Sherlock's. Sherlock froze and John looked pleadingly at him.  
"Please Sherlock. I'm a doctor and I've felt your dick and I can find no abnormalities. Are you just worried about taking his step? Insecure?"  
"I- no it's just. Ok. Do it. I'll show you."  
John stares. "Really?"  
"Yes."  
He unbuttons Sherlock's trousers and pulls them down not noticing anything but the dark silk pants that don't do much good at hiding the erection straining through the thin material. John shoots Sherlock another questioning look and he gets a nervous nod in reply as he pulls down the pants.  
Sherlock is so perfect. It's overwhelming to see his long, pale body stretched put on the sheets and all for John. His penis is a lot like his body, impressive length but a narrower girth. John leans his face and nuzzles gently at the region and places a kiss to the tip of his erection earning a gasp of pleasure from Sherlock.  
He pulls away to check is he's still ok with this but then he notices Sherlock's thighs. He's noticed them before, lean and beautiful but now he sees it.  
Thin lines of scars across his thighs. He knows his feelings of horror and shock must show on his face and when he looks up at Sherlock with wide eyes he sees Sherlock's own eyes are filled with tears.  
"I know. They're hideous. You must think I'm so... Weak, stupid."  
He trails off, saying various insults, more to himself than for John's benefit. John crawls back to Sherlock and holds his face, tilting up his chin and giving him the sweetest kiss possible. It's slow and savoured and he feels Sherlock's reservations weaken for a while. He looks up into Sherlock's eyes, holding his gaze.  
"How could you call yourself weak? I think you are so brave. For getting through it. They're beautiful, like you. I love you so much Sherlock."  
Sherlock's eyes are still watery and John would do anything to make him happy.  
"It was back in school. I got bullied at the boarding school. I hadn't discovered drugs yet and I needed a break, not so much from my mind, although that was a factor, as from me. I hated myself."  
The way he says it, the way he looks. It's all so reminiscent of that time in Sebastian Wilkes office that it really tears at John's heart strings.  
"Sherlock. It was along time ago. I have you now and I love you and you're perfect. Let me show you how much I love you."  
He starts kissing at Sherlock's jaw, moving from his neck to his chest to his stomach before halting.  
"Can I suck you off, please?"  
Sherlock nods with his eyes closed and John grips at his prominent hip bones and then starts kissing his thighs, kissing lovingly on the scars.  
Sherlock is making quiet moans whispering John's name every now and again. Sherlock's dick is now fully hard again and John makes a move towards it.  
He places the tip in his mouth and applies gentle pressure. He licks and swirls his tongue skillfully at the slit and foreskin before trying to take as much of the base as possible. He uses one hand to pump the base and one to hold down Sherlock although he's not moving much, just a gentle buck of the hips.  
He's done this a few times before, back in the army, some of the men had known of his bisexuality and taken advantage of it but really it was just something mates might do for each other in times of sexual deprivation. Blowjobs were neater than handjobs.  
He moves his lips up and down Sherlock's shaft, sucking softly. Sherlock's loud moans reverberate around the room and it's perfect. To hear him enjoying it and letting John hear his enjoyment.  
John moves to suck at Sherlock's balls and now Sherlock let's out a noisy groan.  
"John, oh John. I'm gonna-"  
The end of the sentence is cut off with a shout as John takes down his shaft as he comes, swallowing Sherlock's load.  
Once Sherlock has caught his breath John moves to kiss him softly.  
"You're gorgeous."  
Sherlock looks up at him curiously.  
"I want to reciprocate."  
"What?" John asks, confused.  
"You. I want to do the same to you." He sounds demanding.  
"Oh. It's, well it's not that easy. You might not like it."  
"That was not your first time. Oh, in the army? I'm a quick study. I should be able to imitate your motions as the ones you used on me are most likely the ones you enjoy on yourself."  
John smiles. "If you're sure."  
"I am."  
He removed John's pants and then proceeds to suck him off. He repeats the things John did to him and every now and again tries to add a new motion. It's slightly sloppy but it doesn't matter to John because it's Sherlock and he looks so enthusiastic, sucking happily, and its his plush, now red and wet lips that encircle his cock, and its the soft, black curls that are nuzzling into his lower stomach. It doesn't take long before John's coming and he tries to push Sherlock off but he's refusing and he gags a little as John's hips give a thrust and hot, bitter cum shoots down his throat.  
Sherlock crawls up to lie on John's chest (this has become his favourite position) and wrap himself around John's side, draping his limbs around John's like an overgrown koala.  
Sherlock leans up for a kiss and he's got such a cheeky but shy smile that John can't help but ruffle his hair and say "You're adorable."  
Sherlock pouts at this but it only makes him look cuter so John just tilts his head to kiss him.  
They smile at each other in between sugary kisses and quiet I love yous. It's probably sickening and John still can't believe that this is happening and this is Sherlock but he's just so happy and they fall asleep with expressions of the greatest content and their hands intertwined.  
***

"John. Make love to me."  
The command is slightly breathless and nervous but sure. John looks up from his position between Sherlock's thighs.  
"Please. I really want you to."  
Sherlock begging goes straight to John's crotch and he lets out a slightly anguished whine.  
It's not that he doesn't want to and compared to what John's usually used to this is really taking it slow (2 weeks into the relationship) but Sherlock's a fucking virgin.  
Not that he doesn't find the thought of taking his virginity ridiculously hot.  
John has had anal sex before with girls a long time ago, and once, more recently, with a guy, so he reckons he knows what he's doing but still, he doesn't want Sherlock to feel pressured into doing this.  
"John. Stop thinking. I really want this. I've been thinking about your cock inside of me for too long. I need to feel you. Please John."  
"Oh fuck. Sherlock. Ok. I don't think I have any lube or condoms actually."  
"No, you don't. I bought lube. Condoms are unnecessary. Mycroft gets me tested almost monthly since the drugs. I'm clean. So are you. Don't bother asking how I know."  
John sighs.  
"I was led to believe people were excited at the prospect of sex."  
Sherlock says, cocking his head to one side and frowning at John, it's ridiculously endearing.  
John cracks a smile and kisses Sherlock slowly for a while before drawing away.  
"I am."  
Sherlock nods. "The lube is in the drawer."  
John finds it "strawberry?"  
Sherlock flushes a bit and grins.  
"Have you done this before? To yourself?" John asks as he slicks his fingers.  
Now Sherlock's face goes redder and he nods.  
John smirks "mm like that do you, putting your fingers up your arse? C'mon legs up."  
Sherlock lies on his back and brings his knees up to give John access.  
John places a finger at Sherlock's entrance, teasing, and start pushing it in. Slowly he gets Sherlock accustomed, pumping slowly. Sherlock is making little whimpering noises.  
"Please, John, more."  
He adds another, waiting a while before brushing Sherlock's prostate with the tips of his fingers. Sherlock lets out a yell at this and John tries jabbing lightly.  
"John- oh John please."  
John adds a third finger and starts fucking Sherlock with his fingers harder and pretty soon Sherlock is a babbling incoherent mess.  
"Oh John, please. Just fuck me John. I'm- oh- ready. Please."  
John realises he's so hard it's almost painful. He begins lubing himself up and crawls in between Sherlock's things. Sherlock wraps his legs around John's arse and John carefully aligns himself at Sherlock's entrance. He grabs hold of one large pale hand and laces their fingers.  
"Ok?"  
All he gets is a wide eyed nod but he pushes in slowly. Once he's buried fully inside he groans and Sherlock gasps and he leans in to kiss Sherlock.  
He pulls away and begins a slow, shallow thrusting. He speeds up when they both get comfortable, going deeper and trying keep a steady rhythm, Sherlock bucking his hips to meet John's thrusts.  
John keeps their foreheads pressed together, every once and again tilting his head to kiss Sherlock on the lips or on the jaw or on the neck.  
As John begins to feel himself getting closer he starts thrusting in earnest. He feels his dick brush the bundle of nerves and Sherlock let's out a loud yell. John smiles and kisses Sherlock's forehead.  
"Shh love. Mrs Hudson isn't going to pleased at me for all the horrid things I'm doing to you." He teases.  
"I'd have to disagree." Sherlock says although its hard to make out on account of how laboured his breathing is.  
John laughs and presses a sloppy open mouthed kiss to Sherlock's mouth, sucking at his tongue and lower lip and then goes back to thrusting, this time hitting Sherlock's prostate full on each time.  
This is truly the most beautiful sight John had ever beheld.  
Sherlock lying beneath him, pale body now flushed with arousal and littered with bruises and teeth marks. His mouth hanging open panting and noisy moans of "yes" and "please" and "John". His cheeks red and his damp curls at the fringe sticking to his forehead and the rest of his hair spread out across the pillow like a halo surround his perfect face.  
"I. Love. You. So. Fucking. Much." John says between kisses to Sherlock's face.  
"John- ohhhh- I'm gonna, gonna come soon."  
"Go ahead, sweet."  
He can feel his own orgasm coming on as he moves his hand to pump at Sherlock's cock and buries his face in Sherlock's neck.  
Sherlock comes with a shout and the look of pure pleasure on his face along with the muscles clenching around his cock cause John's own orgasm to come. He buries himself deep in to Sherlock and bites down on Sherlock's shoulder to keep himself from making to much noise.  
He slumps down against Sherlock's body trying to regain his breath and energy.  
When their heart beats have both slowed he pulls out and rolls over laying next to Sherlock.  
"I'll go get a cloth." He murmurs as he sees his own cum dripping down Sherlock's thighs.  
In another few minutes he manages to get up go to the bathroom to grab the cloth and wet it. He wipes them both down and tosses the cloth into the sink before getting back into bed.  
As usual Sherlock crawls to lie on and against him and John, as usual, strokes him gently and kisses his hair as Sherlock makes deep little noises of contentment and runs his fingers across John's torso.  
"You took my virginty."  
The words are slow and thick and John thinks its adorable how almost incoherent he sounds when he's sleepy.  
"M I know. I consider it my greatest achievement. It should say on my grave 'popped Sherlock Holmes' cherry'"  
"I wan you t'be the only person I efer have thects with."  
"What?"  
"Thects. Only wifth you."  
John smiles with euphoric pleasure.  
"Good. I was planning on being that person. Is that a lisp?"  
"Wha?"  
"You're lisping."  
"Oh. I lithp when 'm thleepy."  
Sherlock is curled against him, exhausted from the sex they had just had together. He's the cutest thing John has ever seen and even after John's defiling he looks so pure and innocent, lying with a sleepy, adoring smile and speaking to John with the sweetest lisp he's ever heard.  
"I luff you, jawn."  
John grins  
"I love you too."


End file.
